Page 34 of Act Three

“This stuff tastes like rocket fuel, but it pulls a good punch.”

“Actually…” It was time to come clean. “I’m not worried about the drunk scene. I didn’t want to say this in front of the kids, but to be honest, it’s the…” my throat felt dry and my heart pounded. Dean was a movie star, and I was just a waitress. Even saying the word ‘sex’ in front of him felt like I was doing something illegal. But if I didn’t admit I needed help now, I was going to be thrown in the deep end tomorrow, pretending to fuck Dean in front of the entire cast and crew… with no idea what I was doing. “It’s the…intimatescene that’s worrying me the most.”

“Oh,” Dean said. And then, as my words sank in, “Oh!” He sat on the seat next to me and pushed the vodka away. “Well, they’re not that bad. You’ll have what they call a modesty garment to cover…” he gestured to my crotch area, “you know. The hardest part will be acting like you’re attracted to me.”

Goddamn him and that cheeky smile.

“That won’t be hard at all.” I wished I could take the words back as soon as I said them. Why did I have to say that out loud? “I mean… how does it work? How do you prepare?”

“We could read through our lines, if that helps.” Dean picked up the script and flicked straight to the right page, as though he knew exactly where it was. He adjusted his body and suddenly he wasn’t Dean anymore — he was Tom. It was a subtle shift and if I hadn’t seen him do it in front of me, I might not have noticed the difference, but in a moment, everything about him changed. His posture, his shoulders, the angle of his chin… he’d physicallytransformed into his character. Even his voice, when he spoke, was the slightest bit lower.

The scene would take place in a barn where Tom and Daisy had sought shelter after escaping from a raging bull.

“Daisy, I’ve thought about our situation, and…”

“What?” I asked, as Daisy.

“I know you hate me and I know I got us into this mess, but…” Dean looked away, “the truth is, I let the car break down on purpose. The oil was running low, and I…”

“Why would you do something like that?” My voice became shrill, and I sat up straighter. “You know how important that conference is for my career.” The script instructed Daisy to slap Tom’s cheek, but I didn’t want to hurt him, so I raised my open palm, swung it, and stopped it a few inches from his face. Dean grabbed my hand and squeezed my fingers, sending heat through my entire arm.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise, if you do something for me.”

“What?” My heart skipped a beat. I knew what was coming next, but hearing him say the words still sent a tingle of desire through my lower abdomen.

“Kiss me.”

Dean still held my hand, and his eyes bored into mine as he waited. He was breathing heavily and his lips were damp and parted — did he actually want me to kiss him? I moved forward, watching his eyes for any sign of reluctance, and pressed my lips against his.

This kiss was like nothing else I’d ever experienced. His lips were smooth and moist, his mouth warm and his stubble the perfect length to stimulate my nerve endings when it brushed against my cheeks. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer, pressing his chest against my breasts and massaging my tongue with his.

I wanted more, but I knew I couldn’t take this any further… he had a girlfriend. Besides, he was a famous actor, and I was a nobody. Didn’t these guys see their fans as disposable?

I pulled away gasping, feeling like I’d been submerged in a deep ocean with waves crashing over my head.

“How was that?” he asked.

“Fantastic,” I croaked, hoping he couldn’t see how aroused I was.

“I think we should try it again,” he said, looking thoughtful. “You hesitated for a moment before the kiss and the camera’s going to be zoomed in on our faces. It’s meant to be a passionate scene.”

I swallowed. The room felt hotter than it had five minutes earlier.

“If you think it would be best.”

Dean nodded, became Tom again, and said, “Daisy, I’ve thought about our situation, and…”

I recited my lines again, throwing myself into the role with more commitment this time. When the time came to slap Dean, I went for it, only slowing my hand at the last moment and resting it on his jaw.

“Better.” He smiled and returned to being Tom. When he said, “Kiss me,” I went for it, leaning into his body and re-enacting every fantasy I’d ever had about him. He reciprocated, digging his fingers into my hair and sliding his other hand around my waist.

We tumbled off the bench seat and onto the carpet, where he slid on top of me and sucked my neck. He slid his hand down my waist and over my jeans to my crotch, where he gently squeezed my pussy through the fabric.

“Wait…”

I didn’t know where I found the self-control to stop him, because my hormones were running wild. Every nerve ending inmy vagina begged to be penetrated, but somehow, my brain was still in control. Kissing him was one thing — it was literally in the script, so it was part of my job. But this felttooreal.

Dean looked confused.

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